When Day Breaks
by catherib
Summary: Natalie learns the hard way that stranger things than vampires walk the earth.
1. Part 1

When Day Breaks  
  
A Forever Knight Crossover (to say more would be spoiling)  
  
The morgue needed a window. That's all there was to it. Who cares that they were in the sub-basement of the coroner's building, and that the most exciting thing to see would be the occasional worm twisting by? Grace pondered her nails again, and sighed. Watching the grass grow would be more interesting than trying to find that last nonexistent hangnail, which was what she'd been doing for the last half-hour. If they didn't get some business soon, she was going to crack up, and that was a promise. But at least she wouldn't be alone, from the look of things. Natalie sat at her desk across the room and fiddled endlessly with her keys, seemingly transfixed by the play of light along the chain. Back and forth, back and forth, the keys glittered and jangled in the fluorescent light. Finally, enough was enough. Grace put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. "Go!"  
  
Natalie was so far gone, she didn't even look up at the outburst, but continued to stare forlornly at her keys. "Grace, we've got another hour left to work..." she responded halfheartedly.  
  
"Well, that'll be an hour less that I have to listen to your blessed keys while you watch the seconds tick away!" Grace tried hard to look annoyed, she really did. But she couldn't help but laugh, as the concept of freedom ever so slowly wormed its way into Natalie's mind, and her smile got brighter, and brighter...  
  
Still chuckling, she repeated, "Go on. Get out of here. I can hold the fort till quitting time."  
  
Natalie looked for all the world like a five-year-old getting out of school. She leaped out of her chair and ran for her coat, smiling from ear to ear. "Grace, you're a saint! What would I do without you?"  
  
"Besides go blind staring at your key chain?" And she almost burst out laughing again as Nat darted over and gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "You drive safe, now, you hear me?"  
  
Nat was already through the first set of doors as she called out, "I will! I'll see you tomorrow!"  
  
Grace rubbed her eyes, still smiling, and sighed. "Kids."  
  
***  
  
Natalie sat shivering in the parking lot, waiting for her engine to warm up before she went home. She blew warm air on her mittened hands, and idly wondered where her hat had run off to. Probably left it in the office in her rush to get out of there. But, smiling, she knew she wouldn't go back in there for all the world. And give Grace a chance to change her mind? Not a chance. "So get warm, already!" She could already see it: the fireplace burning, a warm kitty on her lap, and a good, long book in her hands. And any disturbing vampires could take two bottles and call her in the morning. She reached out to see if the engine was warm enough to start. All she had to do was get the damn car warmed up, and she was gone...  
  
She didn't know how they got in. She didn't even see them coming. All of a sudden, they were just there. Three laughing, roughhousing teenagers in her back seat, the same as any other group of teenagers you pass by on the street corner, and don't give a second thought to. The very same.  
  
It was only when one leaned in close that she saw the knife in his hand. Only when he reached for her neck that his sleeve slipped a little, and she saw the needle scars running up and down his arm, like pox. And it was only when he whispered in her ear that she smelled the alcohol on his breath. She felt a wave of cold wash over her as the metal touched her neck, and he repeated his soft whisper in her ear. "Shut the door. It's cold outside."  
  
She didn't want to know why he was laughing.  
  
***  
  
Grace dived for the phone on its first ring. "Whoever this is, I hope you like long chats, because you're the most interesting thing to happen to me in a good half an hour, and I'm not putting down this phone until my shift ends."  
  
"Hi, Grace. Another busy day at the office?"  
  
Her smile widened slightly as she registered the voice. "Detective, why don't they give you guys more vacation? You're driving us right out of business!"  
  
Grace could just see Nick's smile, as he replied dryly, "I'll try to keep that in mind."  
  
"Well you'd just better. They work you folks too hard." She heard his intake of breath. "And before you ask, no, she's not here. Her Laziness took off a few minutes ago. I might be able to still catch her..." Pause. "Nope, her car's already gone." Grace snorted haughtily. "She's probably well on her way to bubble bath heaven by now. The snake. Tomorrow, *I* get to leave an hour early." She heard Nick trying valiantly not to laugh. "But don't you tell her I said so! She might not even come in at all!"  
  
"I won't. I'll talk to you later, Grace."  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" Grace scrambled for conversation. "You haven't told me the new gossip in the precinct, yet. You're not allowed to hang up till you give."  
  
"You want the latest?" Nick was grinning like a two year old. He was always the last person to hear *everything*, till he picked up this little morsel this morning, and he couldn't wait to hear the reaction.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. Come on, now, don't be shy."  
  
"You know Trix and Hawthorne?" He paused for dramatic emphasis. "They're getting married."  
  
Pause. "Nick, you know that gossip is two months old, don't you?"  
  
Even longer pause. "You're kidding."  
  
"Nope. Better luck next time, Detective."  
  
Grace stayed on just long enough to hear the soft thump of the receiver hitting Nick's forehead in defeat before she quietly hung up.  
  
***  
  
The trees flew past, row by row by row, like black and white walls across her headlights, the snow darting all around her like a cloud of shooting stars. In another time, another circumstance, she might have even considered it beautiful.  
  
They must have driven twenty miles or more out of the city. The houses had long since petered out. No more hotels, no gas stations, nothing. It really was amazing how fast one could get so far from help. She hadn't been driving more than half an hour, and already there were few options left for escape. Even if she did manage to get away from them after they had gotten to wherever they were going, she would never make it back to the car. They'd be expecting that. She wouldn't make it ten feet. No, her only hope was to do something they couldn't anticipate. Inwardly, she sighed. It would have to be by foot, or nothing. She grimly reviewed her clothes without looking down. Business suit, knee high skirt, long wool overcoat. Mittens, but not very good ones. No hat. No boots. She risked a glance of despair at her heeled shoes. Not only would they do her no good, but they would actually slow her down. She'd have to dump them.  
  
God. Virtually barefoot, and her thick hair would only keep her ears warm for so long. By her count, the last side road was about three miles back, and the last definite house was another four. She couldn't even rely on anyone passing by. The nearest town along this road was another fifty miles from Toronto, and it was far too small to have many commuters. Seven miles in the snow till she could get to help. Best walking speed being four miles an hour, she'd be exposed to the cold for at least an hour and a half.  
  
With clinical detachment, she reviewed her fate. Two hours in the cold, with no shoes and no hat. If she made it to safety without succumbing to hypothermia, which was a big if, she was looking at frostbite on both feet, ears, and nose. Possibly fingers, as well, but that would depend on how much of the time she kept her hands in her pockets. The hospitals in Toronto were well equipped to deal with frostbite patients, so she might even be able to keep her toes from being amputated. But there were no guarantees.  
  
And this was her most laughably optimistic case, if she stopped now, got away immediately, and stuck to the plowed road. Realistically? She wouldn't be able to stay on the road for long, lest they catch her by simply getting in the car and driving back the way they came. It would be necessary at first, to keep them from following her trail of footprints. But traveling barefoot through seven miles of deep snow in the woods at night? Natalie breathed deeply, and closed her eyes a moment in self pity. But the bite of the knife at her neck snapped them open again as she gasped.  
  
"Now now, sweet-um. No sleeping yet. The party's just started." That set them off to giggling again. She was really beginning to despise the sound.  
  
She cleared her throat softly to make sure her voice didn't crack when she spoke. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Second star on the right, Mr. Sulu, and straight on till morning." He was still snickering softly as she felt the knife drift down her chest, slicing buttons as it went. "Mmm hmm. Very nice. I think we may have fun with you yet..." Natalie was calmly amazed that the steering wheel was neither bending in two beneath her hands, nor were her teeth grinding themselves into powder, as the knife brushed very slowly, very gently across her bare skin.  
  
"Hey, Luke, no fair! You can't play now! You got to go first last time!" was the protest from behind her. She heard a little scuffling.  
  
"Oh, piss off, Greg. You'll get your turn. Keep a leash on it."  
  
The other snorted. "Yeah, that's what you said last time, and look how that turned out. The chick got offed before the rest of us got our turn."  
  
"Look, will you two shut up? We'll all get a turn this time. Right?" the third cut in, with an edge to his voice.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. We'll all get a turn this time." The first said in a mocking voice to the second, who kicked him.  
  
Another knife shot out from the back seat, right next to Natalie's eye, and she jerked violently. Her reaction went unnoticed as the knife waggled in a general forward direction. "It's the next left after this. Be ready."  
  
She took a few more deep breaths, and glared at the road ahead of her, already starting to consciously change fear to anger. Oh, don't worry, she thought silently to herself. I will be. 


	2. Part 2

When Day Breaks, Part 2  
  
Nick picked up the phone and speed dialed Natalie's number again. And again, it rang exactly four times, then the machine cut in with the exact same recording. And again, Nick left the exact same message he had the last three times he called, and hung up.  
  
He sighed. She was definitely ignoring him. And, as usual, he had absolutely no idea which of his innumerable faults she'd decided were pissing her off that day. And, also as usual, she probably wouldn't tell him until she'd cooled off, in which case it wouldn't matter anymore. And the entire thing would be forgotten, at least until it came up again. Nick shook his head, and sighed again.  
  
There was, of course, the possibility that Lacroix had finally decided that his little fit of altruism had worn off, and was draining her right now as he sat... yeah, right. He rubbed his eyes, and cursed an overactive imagination. The entire idea was idiotic. Why would Lacroix choose now, when he could have struck easily so many times before? Unless...  
  
Lacroix had had so much more time to see the two of them together recently. Especially when he had been possessed. He (part of him rebelled at the idea of recognizing any part of the demon that had possessed him as part of his own self, but he had to be honest, with himself, if no one else) had thrown Lacroix across the room with hardly a second thought, yet found the strength to banish the demon, rather than harm a hair on Natalie's head. What other explanation could there be, than a man in love?  
  
He grabbed his coat, and started for the door. He knew perfectly well that she would not be happy to see him. She would meet him with that cool stare that bored right through him, and uninterestedly ask him to come in. Or she might just slam the door in his face. But she would be all right, and Natalie angry was infinitely preferable to Natalie dead.  
  
***  
  
Nick pulled up to Nat's apartment. Her car space was empty. He kept telling himself that didn't mean anything, nothing at all. She went out to get Sydney more catnip, or something. That's all it was. Besides, he wasn't sure if Lacroix even knew how to drive. And even if he did, he would never stoop so low as to use one to dump a body. He looked up at her window. A light was on, but Natalie always left a light on, so it always looked like someone was home. Again, it meant nothing. He strained his ears, listening. Softly Sydney meowed at the door. Sydney got his food as soon as Natalie got home in the evening, so he never failed to sit and wait by the door for her to get there.  
  
Sydney was still meowing. She had never gotten there.  
  
Nick took to the air in an instant, pushed out all other thoughts, and concentrated on listening to the city. Usually he tuned out the majority of the noise, just for sanity's sake. Too much information at once usually wasn't a problem most people had to face, but to them it was occasionally a real danger. The first things he had learned in his new life were to keep out others' thoughts, and to keep out others' noise. It was one of the many things you learn to mimic, to appear more human. But now he let all that go for a moment, and really, truly listened, to everything and everyone. Rats scurried next to the garbage cans beneath him, dogs howled forlornly down the block. As his range expanded, tires screeched, horns blared. And the people! Crying, laughing, talking, screaming. It was a trick he rarely used, and now he remembered why. Sometimes it felt like he could hear every sound in the city, every screech, whine, howl, and whimper. It lent itself so easily to the feeling of godhood, when it was simply a useful tool to aid in the kill. To hear the heart of the prey. Occasionally, as now, it had its uses. That was all. He closed his eyes, and pretended that his heart didn't leap at the feeling of power, in joy and in fear. A tool. That was all.  
  
And though he listened with all his might, ten miles of solid sound, he couldn't hear a whisper of her.  
  
***  
  
"Hello, Detective Vetter speaking."  
  
"Tracy? It's Nick. I want you to put out an APB on Natalie's car."  
  
God, did she ever hate that authoritative tone of voice. It never failed to remind her of her father, and bring out the worst in her. "A... All right. But isn't she at home by now?"  
  
"I'm at her place now. It looks like she never got home."  
  
Tracy's brow knotted instantly. How did he know that? "But, Nick..."  
  
"And odds are that she's out of the city, so focus your search outside the metro area."  
  
Her jaw dropped at that. What did this guy use for clues, a Ouija board? "Nick, what is going *on*?" But he had already hung up. She glared at the receiver for a moment. She knew perfectly well she was being snowballed. But he wasn't going to get away with it this time. She quickly put out the APB, then grabbed her coat and ran for her car, trying to remember where exactly Natalie lived again...  
  
The caddy was parked in front of Natalie's apartment, but Nick was predictably nowhere to be found. What he thought he could do on foot in the snow, who knew? Natalie's place was locked tight, so how could he have known that she wasn't just asleep, or hurt? Maybe he had a spare set of keys. Not enough clues, Vetter, you're spinning your wheels...  
  
Tracy was so sick of trailing after her partner like an unwanted sibling, she could just... impulsively, she lashed out with one foot and kicked the bumper of Nick's car. It felt good enough that she kept right on going. "Darnit! My *stupid* partner and his *stupid* secrets, his *stupid* arrogance, and his *stupid* half-ass self-reliance! He's going to get himself *killed* with this crap! His partner? No, apparently, I'm just the nearest convenient *phone* operator!"  
  
She peered at the section of bumper she'd been beating on. Not a scratch. Of course. She resisted the temptation to kick it again, and stalked back to her car. Time to go back to work. Where she could sit by the phone and wait for His Highness to clue her in.  
  
"Jerk."  
  
***  
  
Natalie finally found the side street they were looking for, after a couple wrong turns to make time for someone to figure out she was gone. She knew it wasn't much, but even a little more time certainly wasn't going to hurt her. But she could only stall so long, and they did eventually turn and make their way up the long driveway. The actual house was about half a mile in from the road. The idea of clearing the road of snow was a joke, so it seemed that whoever lived there either didn't use it in winter, or didn't mind being stuck inside once the snow fell. This week had been particularly bad for weather - it had been clear, sunny, and wickedly cold. So even though snow should have fell long before, the ground wasn't very icy, and they had no trouble navigating the road in Natalie's small city car.  
  
She finally saw the house up ahead, and blissfully there was a long stretch of road leading up to it that was very straight and flat. Perfect. She tried to remember as clearly as she could exactly what had happened when they all loaded into her car. Her memory was kind of hazy once she saw the knife, but she was fairly certain none of them had put their seat belts on.  
  
She slowly drove to the flat stretch, took one deep breath for courage, and hit the accelerator as hard as she could. All three of the boys were thrown backward, yelling and cursing. But by the time they could retaliate, she slammed her car into the side of the house at full speed. She caught the faintest glimpse of bodies flying past... then she smacked her head on the steering wheel, and slumped forward, unconscious.  
  
***  
  
Natalie groggily raised her head, and tried to remember exactly where she was. Her eyes slowly focused on the steering wheel in front of her, an impressive dent where she'd bashed her head against it. But that didn't really help her figure out where she was. Next she tried to focus on something a little farther, outside the car. A wave of nausea almost persuaded her that it wasn't worth it, but she thought she could see something. Something on her hood... she squinted her eyes to see more clearly, because it looked an awful lot like a body, which of course was crazy. What would a dead man be doing lying on top of her hood...?  
  
Memory returned in a jolt of adrenaline, which did her headache no good at all, and she winced. She quickly scanned for the other two, ignoring the way her eyes swam whenever she moved her head. She could get out of here with a concussion, if she had to. But I don't have to enjoy it, she thought, as a particularly large spike dug into her forehead, right *there*. She caught sight of another of them, lying next to the side of the house, with his face toward her. He was obviously dead.  
  
But it was pointless to try to find them. Her first priority was to get the hell out of Dodge, and call for an ambulance, police, whatever. Bring in the cavalry, and never ever drive down this road again. Fortunately the car was still running, which meant she had some gas left in her tank. Having no clue how long she'd been out, she'd better assume that it was just about gone. Better use it while she could. Slowly, methodically she focused on the gear shift, and put it in reverse. Setting her teeth against the pain of looking out farther than her nose, she zoomed backward, sliding the other body off her hood as she went.  
  
She never heard or saw the third one, the one seated directly behind her. She barely even got a good glimpse of his knife before it plunged into her heart. But she heard his voice most clearly, as if it were the only sound in the world. "Luke was stupid not to kill you in the first place." And as she sank for the last time into the enveloping darkness:  
  
"They're all more fun dead, anyway."  
  
****  
  
Nick had been prowling the city in ever-widening circles, listening for the slightest sound that could lead him to Natalie. He had searched by air for as long as he could, in all the nearby cities and towns, and he still couldn't hear her. Then he tried a different approach. He started scanning by sight for her car, her hair... until he suddenly realized, to his horror, that he couldn't remember what she had been wearing that day. The tension of hours of searching, kept carefully hidden, came abruptly to a head as Nick's hands began to shake, and he felt panic begin to forcibly set in. Stupid, stupid! What in God's name was she wearing today? This was not a trick question! Green, blue, brown, pick a color. His palms ground into his eyes in an effort to force the information out. Had he not even gone to see her today? Could that really be the answer? How could he not go to visit? How could he forget? He always visited her, always. Every day.  
  
Every day except today. Nick landed on a nearby roof and waited a moment till his thoughts regained some order; clasped his hands in front of him, and willed them not to shake. There were dozens of perfectly reasonable things she could be doing right now. She could have just decided to visit a friend, and had forgotten to tell him. She could be at a birthday party that had completely slipped his mind. She'd meet him in the morning with a disapproving look, and a small piece of cake to watch him force down as penance. She'd be all right.  
  
She'd be all right.  
  
But when Nick lifted into the air, and resumed his search, his hands were still shaking.  
  
***  
  
It didn't take him long to find her car, once he was looking over the right area. There wasn't much around in the way of people or supplies because, as much as some people might wax philosophical about the good old days when there were less people around to muck things up, the human is far too social an animal to enjoy solitude for long. Only a very few have the temperament for it.  
  
The front end of the car looked pretty banged up, even from this height. Then he saw two specks nearby. They weren't... Nick fell like a shot to the ground, and carefully examined them. No. Neither one was Natalie. He carefully circled the place, keeping his footprints apart from the rest in the shallow cover of snow. If they could get a team out here, they might even be able to pull some footprints off of some of them, a clinical portion of his mind remarked. But he saw no sign of Natalie. She must have gotten away. She must have. It was then, as he turned the last corner of the house, and approached the car from the other side, that he saw her.  
  
Nick found himself sitting next to her. He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, but the matted frozen blood simply made it break off when he moved it. A part of his mind catalogued the cause of death, estimated time since death... all the details stored themselves away to a place in his mind that was far away from where he kept Natalie. He watched himself as if from a great distance, some far-off place where it somehow wouldn't matter. He could see himself, and her, still and cold in the blowing wind, the trees swaying, their branches clicking together, and he was silently amazed at how seamlessly life flowed around and past him, moving on when he could not.  
  
And so he sat, and looked at her, and wordlessly raged against the blowing of the wind, that reminded him that time was passing, that he needed to get up, to report the scene to the proper police, to take notes of what he found as he found it. To put her face behind him. Forever.  
  
Nick Knight sat in a dusting of snow, and held a dead body tightly, for no good reason at all.  
  
So deep in shock was he, that he barely noticed her first gasp of breath against his chest, and her frozen hand clench his tightly. He only heard her whisper his name, before she succumbed to a fit of coughing, and began to shiver violently in the winter air.  
  
When she finally got her breath again, her first words were, "Nicholas B. Knight, if you brought me across, I am going to kill you." A final coughing jag hit, "Twice."  
  
Nick's eyes brimmed with tears, and he hugged her tightly enough to break ribs. 


	3. Part 3

When Day Breaks, Part 3  
  
"Nick, I told you, I'm all right!" Natalie sat on Nick's couch, bundled up in several layers of warm clothes that she was sure hadn't been out of the closet since he bought them. Her hands and feet were immersed in cold water, and she was beginning to regain feeling in them at what she knew was a vastly accelerated rate. She couldn't decide if she was more annoyed at not knowing what on earth was going on, or thankful that the burning pain would only last a little while longer. She decided to be thankful for the moment. She'd have plenty of time to be annoyed on that subject later, when she wasn't gritting her teeth in pain anymore. Besides, she had her hands full for now, just trying to beat Nick out of this ultra-protective stage he was wallowing in. "Will you stop babying me? And while you're pacing, hand me those towels there on your left."  
  
"But Nat, this just doesn't make sense! You should have died!" It was hard for her to tell, but he seemed almost... well, more afraid than confused. But that was to be expected, she supposed. He'd had a tremendous scare today. He's more than due a case of the jitters.  
  
As was she, actually. But even the thought of trying to cope with it all made her instantly backpedal and slam the mental door shut with a crash. She wrapped the blanket more tightly against her, and let her breath out nice and slow. There was no way she could look at that. Not right now. She'd have plenty of time to relive things later. For the moment, there was still a puzzle to be solved.  
  
She looked back up at Nick. "You're absolutely sure you didn't bring me across?" With the information she had, it was the only solution. The only problem being that she could only hear normally, could only see normally, and was getting a craving for some steak right about now. She almost smiled to herself. That's right, Nat. Dumb jokes and cold logic. Did wonders for keeping the mind occupied and out of trouble, when there were things you'd rather not think about.  
  
Nick cast her an annoyed glance. "It's not exactly something you can do accidentally." And she had to believe him, if only because he never got that sarcastic unless he was really upset about something. And he did look honestly worried. "I promise you, whatever this is, it's none of my doing."  
  
Nat sank back into the sofa and chewed her nail absently as she stared at the floor, cursing her situation silently. Why couldn't Nick have been a good little vampire and brought her across? Not the most ideal situation, to say the least, but it would at least have explained things in a nice and orderly fashion. Now, she didn't have the faintest idea what had happened; she knew what the extent of her injuries were, that was the first thing she'd asked him, once they were out of there and she was getting warm again. She shouldn't have lasted an hour, with wounds like those. But now, never mind being alive, you wouldn't even know that she had even stopped for a flat tire on her way home. She placed a hand protectively across her stomach. No pain, no wounds, no nothing.  
  
To her horror, she found tears streaming down her face. There was nothing she could do anymore, it was too hard, and too much, to keep in. So she let it all come out, all the memories, the pain, the tension, the fear, the confusion, and the relief, it all came crashing down, all at once, and she sobbed. Nick sat down, put his arms around her, and didn't say a thing. There would be time for comforting words, for setting things back in order, tomorrow. Right now, she just needed to cry.  
  
***  
  
Much later.  
  
"I guess I just thought I might finally have the world in order, everything back in place. And now I get stuck with this." Natalie took the glass of orange juice offered, and paused a moment to stare at her hand, now barely peeling from frostbite, and no longer in any sort of pain. Then she looked back at Nick. "I'm not you, and I'm not what I used to be. But what else is there? What have I forgotten? What's the missing piece I have left to find?" Fear and tension had finally been washed away, and left her with an acceptance, of sorts. She was what she was, whatever that may be. And whatever may happen, she could deal with things as they came. No need to give her imagination a head start on the matter. But that didn't leave her without some hefty frustration at the world in general, for making itself even more strange, just for spite's sake.  
  
Nick hesitated a moment before answering her. He looked more worried now than ever. What could he possibly have to be worried about? "Nick, is there something you're not telling me?" He shot a glance at her, and his expression darkened even more. "Nick? Tell me."  
  
Unwillingly, he spoke. "I think... I might have an idea as to what it might be." Natalie opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to the punch. "I need to make a phone call." He launched himself off the couch and headed for the phone on the table, but she grabbed his arm as he passed by. "What is it, Nick?"  
  
He snapped, "Nat, I don't know!" He put his hand on top of hers, and resumed in calmer tones, "I need to be sure about this before I can tell you anything. You have to trust me on this one." But his fear was beginning to feed her own again, and that she almost couldn't forgive him for. She closed her eyes and told herself that he wouldn't put her through this unless he thought it was absolutely necessary.  
  
She consciously let go of his arm, and smiled faintly. "You know how much I hate hanging on a limb, Nick."  
  
He mirrored her smile and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. "I know. I'll make it as short as possible, I promise."  
  
"You'd better."  
  
****  
  
Over the next two months, Natalie searched on her own. It wasn't that she didn't trust Nick. It was just... she couldn't just sit there on her hands and wait for him to tell her what she needed to know. Even if she didn't learn anything, it would do her good just to be doing something... anything... other than waiting. So she did multiple tests on herself, even simpler than the ones she did on Nick. He at least knew what he was, and had had eight hundred years experience with what he could and couldn't do. She had no idea where to even begin to find out things about herself. So she started with what she knew. Wounds and frostbite healed. Nick would come in to the morgue from time to time to see her make another tiny incision on her arm, and record the results. It seemed that it didn't matter where she made the mark, how deep, or how long. The greater the wound, the longer it took to heal, if you could call a matter of minutes "long."  
  
But after a time, she finally exhausted the basics in that area, and next tried diseases, harmless ones, the flu and a few colds. They had absolutely no effect. Over time, she advanced to more and more adventurous diseases, until finally she was dabbling in deadly things. It was then that she collapsed, for the first time since starting it all. She was home at the time, fortunately, so no one saw her. When she woke, she checked the readings on the machines she had on extended loan from Dave, an old friend who worked in ER.  
  
Normal, normal... then a spike, and everything flatlined, even the brainwave monitors, all of it... until it popped back up to normal, where it stayed.  
  
As if nothing had ever happened.  
  
***  
  
And in two months' time, Natalie was walking out to her car from work. She'd managed to convince herself that the new model with the fast-heating system was purely practical, saves gas and all that. Someday she might even convince herself that that was the real reason she bought it.  
  
Just as she was turning the outer lock, a very strange sensation came over her. The hairs on the back of her neck raised, just slightly, and she whipped around, mace in hand.  
  
"Wait! I give up!" A man approached her with his arms raised, a relaxed smile on his face. "I suppose this means you don't remember me?" He was handsome, early to mid-thirties, by her guess, with a disarming British accent. His smile faded at her blank look. "Ah well, that's all right. I don't have much of a memorable face. We met about two years ago, over that nasty beheading business..." He rubbed the side of his nose absently as his face grimaced slightly in embarrassment.  
  
A name forged its way out of Natalie's memory to fit the face, and she smiled. "Adam Pierson. Yes, I remember you. How are you?"  
  
"Very well, very well indeed." He paused, and regarded her contemplatively for a moment. "But I rather think the real question is, how are *you*?"  
  
Cautiously, she kept her smile in place while she tried to figure out what exactly he was doing here, now, asking her these questions. "I'm fine."  
  
"Are you? Are you really?" He continued to watch her closely, as if he were looking for something.  
  
Natalie smiled wryly. "Was that not the answer you were looking for?"  
  
As suddenly as it appeared, the intensity vanished, and he smiled amiably. "You could say that. Tell me, Natalie, when were you born?"  
  
All right. She would answer this one last question, then he either had to get somewhere with this, or she would politely duck into her car and drive away. "1960."  
  
He actually had the grace to look surprised. Then he melted into a kindly expression, like that of a man to his favorite grandchild. "Awfully young, aren't you? Have you met any more like us?"  
  
Now *that* was an interesting question. "Like us?" she repeated.  
  
Adam didn't seem to consider the question odd at all, but resumed in a businesslike tone, "Yes, like you and I. Have you ever had the sensation you felt when I came near before?"  
  
How on earth had he known that? "No, never." But, she reasoned, if he knew that, he might know other things. And she had had little progress so far in ascertaining what she was. She couldn't let an opportunity like this slip away so quickly. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me about it?"  
  
Adam's face had transformed again. Now he looked sad, and strangely enough, profoundly resigned. "Yes, I suppose I'll have to, won't I?"  
  
Suddenly no longer sure she wanted to hear this news, Natalie led him to her car.  
  
***  
  
While the two were driving, Adam asked Natalie about her past, seemingly insignificant things: who her parents were, how often she got broken bones, etc., etc. By the time they had reached her apartment, she was starting to get sick of all the pussyfooting around.  
  
"Look, Adam, I don't know what you think you can tell me, but I do know some things about myself. I know that nonfatal things, like a bad cut, or a nasty disease either heal practically instantly, or don't affect me at all. Fatal things *appear* to kill me, but I always seem to wake up. Is there anything more that you can tell me?"  
  
Her outburst had no outward effect, as he continued to regard her with a wistful expression. "Yes," he replied simply. But before he continued, his features smoothed, like those of a man about to confess. "I suppose I ought to start by saying that there are more of us. Immortals, I mean. Many more."  
  
Natalie put aside the rather alarming use of the word 'immortal'. He couldn't know the uncomfortable parallels it raised in her mind. "There are others..." she sat, intrigued. "I suppose I just never thought there would be more than one."  
  
"You think you're unique in the world?" Adam's eyebrows lifted speculatively, and a corner of Natalie's mouth quirked against her will.  
  
"Well, you have to admit, the odds that there are more of... us," she admitted with a nod toward him, "is close enough to zero anyway..."  
  
He nodded, and continued. "No, there are more. Some will be your friends, your best friends. And some will try to kill you."  
  
And so the other shoe dropped. Natalie sighed. There had to be a catch in there somewhere. There always was.  
  
Adam stared at the floor hesitantly a moment, then his earnest gaze returned to her, decision made. He even smiled a little as he began, "Let me tell you a story, Natalie, about a man, a very long time ago, who went by the name of Methos..."  
  
Of course, there were parts of the story Adam (Methos) didn't tell her. This is one.  
  
***  
  
The Shires of England, 1456  
  
Nick landed softly on the new spring grass outside of town, just out of sight of the taverns and lodges. Dawn was near, very near, and it was past time for him to seek shelter. He didn't feel weary at all, but he knew he would be able to sleep from dawn to dusk, if he tried. He smiled at his own exuberance. It was both exhilarating and exhausting, to finally be on his own. Though he suspected Lacroix was not far; it had taken quite some convincing on his part that he was ready to see the world on his own terms. He didn't think he actually persuaded Lacroix at all, but that he finally conceded simply to get Nick out of his hair for a while. Which was perfectly all right... he got his way in the end. A fairly rare occurrence, he was learning, where Lacroix was concerned.  
  
All of this ran through his mind as he approached the first lodge. He knocked politely, and when no answer was forthcoming, he stepped inside. It was a large stone room, many tables and chairs strewn about, with a center stove from which a pleasant warmth emanated. Next to the stove sat a small, squat woman efficiently kneading the day's bread. She glanced up momentarily at his entrance, then went back to her kneading. "Meal'll be ready in an hour."  
  
Nick smiled. "I'm not here for breakfast. Do you have any rooms open?"  
  
Not wanting food, she seemed to find no need to waste any more effort on him, and didn't even look up as she replied, "Booked up last night, and they're all still abed."  
  
Frowning, Nick inquired, "Isn't that a little unusual, to be full this time of year?" Springtime, while affording him spectacular views and favorable winds, left the roads between towns treacherous with mud.  
  
For some reason, that question at least seemed to regain her interest in him. She paused in her work to stare up at him. "This is the week of the town's spring festival. It's been planned for months. All the taverns are full." Her brow furrowed as she tried to get a better look at him, honestly confused. "Why else would you be here?"  
  
No taverns. No shelter. With mere minutes to spare till dawn, he worked to keep from panicking. There was a solution to this problem. He merely had to find it. As his mind fought madly for another plan, he muttered offhandedly, "I'm just passing through."  
  
The woman nodded. Her life, at least, having resumed its order, she went calmly back to kneading her bread, "Well, why don't you go on to Devonshire, three miles south." She pointed. "They had rooms open yesterday, so I hear. You should have no trouble."  
  
"Here, even the stables are packed." She shook her head in astonishment, then smiled with pride. "It will be a good festival. You should stay to come and join us."  
  
Three miles was a mere eyeblink of time by air. It was an eyeblink he didn't have. Eyes wide, he still tried to grasp the enormity of his mistake. "No room at all?"  
  
"None." He had a problem. To even dig himself a hole would take time, too much time...  
  
... for dawn touched the land, and his time ran out.  
  
He bolted out of the tavern, mercifully facing west, not east, and came up short at the sharp shadows of light and dark that the buildings made against the land. Fortunately, with dawn just breaking, they were still very long, and he was able to make it to the far side of the street quickly. He slipped behind the nearest house, now at least out of sight of the main road through town.  
  
But what to do now? He could either enter a building, or dig himself a hole in the dirt. Digging was fairly out of the question, so close to civilization, and curious dogs. Which left entering a building. House or lodge? Lodges had more people, which meant it would be harder to keep himself out of sight, out of light, for the whole day without being noticed. Houses had less people, more room, but more of a likelihood that they would be noticed if they were suddenly forced to go "missing."  
  
Nick eyed the rapidly shortening shadows, and made his decision. It would be a house, and it would have to be now. He chose one close to him, and managed to get behind it fairly quickly, racing across the lighted spaces between houses and pausing each time to wait a moment for the burns to heal. And just as he was about to lay his hand on the door to sneak inside, a voice came up behind him:  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."  
  
Nick spun around and snarled. Someone had been watching him! Fortunately, the fool was in shadow. Easy enough prey.  
  
The other continued, seemingly oblivious to his danger. "You see, that's a church you were about to march into. Not the most pleasant place to spend the day, I hear."  
  
Oblivious to the man's jabbering, Nick launched himself at him. But somehow the other was already in the process of pulling out his sword so that, though Nick was obviously faster, he was met with a leveled blade. Sinking his teeth into the other's throat meant slicing open his own, that much was obvious.  
  
To his astonishment, his prey looked actually amused. "Jittery thing, aren't you? Finished?"  
  
Nick's eyes flared from gold to red, as insult was added to injury. "No," he rasped, and disappeared from the other's view, to instantly grab him from behind and yank his head to the side, for best access to his jugular. It was at just that moment that he was impaled by his prey's sword.  
  
As he sank to the ground in pain, he felt the sword touch his neck. The stranger continued conversationally, as if he'd never been interrupted, "You know, I've always said that vampires enjoy killing far too much. Get so caught up in it, they sometimes forget that their prey isn't dead yet."  
  
Calmly, he sheathed his sword, smoothly took off the thick hooded cloak he was wearing, and offered it to Nick. And for the first time, Nick looked at his enemy's face, and saw warm eyes smiling down at him. "My name is Methos. Come with me, and we'll find you some shelter."  
  
Some friendships are born quite strangely. This one went quite tamely, in comparison. 


	4. Part 4

When Day Breaks, Part 4  
  
Unfortunately, Natalie wasn't buying. As a matter of fact, she was laughing. Not a good start. "What? Are you kidding me? People running around after each other, trying to cut each other's heads off? You're crazy!"  
  
Adam shook his head, and continued earnestly, "I'm not. So it's weird, it's bizarre, it's stranger than what you're used to. So is waking up from the dead!" He smiled. "Is this really so different, when you think about it?"  
  
A good point, she thought, "...But this is insane! I'm not some kung-fu ninja, battling evil!" She waved her arms around, same as everyone when talking about kung-fu ninjas. "I'm a doctor. My job, loosely," she admitted, "is to heal people, not kill them. Can't I just refuse to fight?"  
  
Always the first question, it seemed. And the hardest decision. Adam sighed. "We cannot fight on holy ground. Ever. If that is your choice, you can spend your whole life in a monastery somewhere, and no immortal will be able to touch you."  
  
"A monastery? For the rest of my eternal life." Natalie wrinkled her nose at the thought. "Not a chance."  
  
"Well, before you decide anything, I think you'd better call Nick." Adam repressed a small smile. "If I recall correctly, he'll be none too pleased at this little crimp in his lifestyle..."  
  
***  
  
Belgium, 1477  
  
A very grand and lustrous hall, with crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, and food on every table. That was how Nicholas had always imagined the throne room of the Habsburgs of Austria. Quite unlike the scene before him.  
  
Stone benches rivaled the floor for coldness. The tables were stone also, covered in stained linen which once might have been white, but he couldn't say for sure. A few dogs sat at the foot of the throne, unceasingly hunting fleas. There was food everywhere, he had at least got that right. On the tables, the floor... God only knew the last time they had cleaned the place. The windows were grand and quite ornate, almost worth the trip, but for the moment they seemed to add to the chill of the windy evening with their tall splendor.  
  
"You'd think such a wise man as a duke would have the sense to pick a small room to sit in on a night like this. A room this size would need a fire the like of a funeral pyre to warm." Methos murmured in his ear, and Nicholas' mouth shifted ever so slightly upward.  
  
"And I was so looking forward to this..."  
  
"I did try to tell you. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Royalty are just people, too, Nicholas. Don't assume anything else." It was then that the duke took notice of them, and they approached the throne.  
  
"My daughter arrived well to Ghistele?"  
  
The two exchanged glances. Methos was the one to speak. "Yes, my lord. Quite well. She sends you her regards." With a deferential bow, he handed the duke a slip of parchment, merely a few words, a token to show that his daughter had arrived safely.  
  
The duke seemed pleased. "Very well. Your payment for service." He motioned to one of his aides, who slipped away a moment, then reappeared with two small bags. The two accepted the money, bowed low, and turned to go.  
  
Just as they reached the door, a messenger arrived. He wore the colors of Ghistele. Nick glanced at Methos, alarmed, but the other walked confidently out, looking neither left nor right, calm as ever. That didn't keep them from walking as quickly as they could for their horses. It was only at the shout of "Guards!" that they broke into a run.  
  
"Nicholas! Wait for me!" Methos raced through the muddy streets, with what seemed to be half the town at his heels. He had no idea how quickly news of bounty spread here, or he would have made sure the horses were nearer. Of course, it didn't help that the watchtowers were all shouting the news...  
  
Nicholas, finally on horseback, spared a moment to glance behind him, reigns in one hand, the spare horse in the other. "Methos! Hurry up, they're gaining!"  
  
"You think I don't know that?" Methos swung up on his horse, and the two galloped full speed for the docks, leaving the crowd of townspeople in their dust.  
  
The two made it to their ship with only minutes to spare. "Methos," Nicholas muttered, "exactly how is it that I get into these situations with you? As if Cairo weren't enough!"  
  
"What can I say?" Methos yawned mightily, and stretched. "You're destined to live an interesting life." Relaxing into his bed, he sighed in contentment. "Cheer up. We got away, money in hand, and none the worse for wear. What's the problem?"  
  
Nick stared at him, incredulous. "The problem! The problem, is that we were contracted to transport the girl, not to steal her away!"  
  
Methos waved a hand carelessly at him. "Bah. The Duke's got more daughters than even he can marry off in a lifetime. Besides, he'd never think to look for her in that godforsaken hole we left her in. Why such a beautiful girl would choose a pig herder to love..." he shrugged, "but, who am I to judge?" He raised his eyebrows at Nick's disapproving look. "He won't miss her a bit, I promise you. And like I said, we got away."  
  
Nick looked singularly exasperated, and shook his head in defeat. "Mark my words, Methos, if I never meet another immortal, it will be too soon."  
  
***  
  
When he came out of the memory, Adam was losing the battle to keep from smiling. "No, I don't think Nicholas will like this idea at all..."  
  
Natalie made a sudden connection. "Was it you that he needed to call?" She hadn't ever thought Nick's quick solution would come to anything. She just assumed it was some potion she had to breathe on, that would turn green if she were one thing, purple if she were something else. Teach her to make bad assumptions...  
  
He nodded. "Nicholas and I go way back. He wanted me to come and take a look at you. To see if you were one of us, or just a fluke of nature, unique, like you thought. He was right to call."  
  
Natalie absently shook her head. "Why, why, *why* doesn't Nick ever tell me these things? This could've saved me two months of worry." What was he thinking?  
  
Adam's face became quite serious. "He was being careful. If it had turned out that you weren't an Immortal, I would have just kept on walking through that parking lot, and you never would have heard about us. It should be obvious why we're so secretive. Our community is nearly as hated, on the whole, as vampires. Immortality is something some people would give anything," his expression sent a chill down Natalie's spine, "*anything*, to put in a bottle. Even the worst of us knows the danger in letting our presence be known. It's in our own self- interest to keep quiet."  
  
Natalie nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I'd better call Nick."  
  
"Nick? Yeah, it's Natalie. I have a friend here who wants to see you. An old friend." She paused a moment, then whispered to Adam, "How old?"  
  
He strained to remember how old he'd told Nicholas he was... he was sure it wasn't the full five thousand. He'd already learned by then that people tended to die when he told them his real age. Being the oldest of the Immortals sounded impressive, but invariably was the worst kind of nuisance... damn, when was it that he met Nicholas, anyhow? Ah well... he made a stab at what he thought was a good number.  
  
He whispered it into her ear, and Natalie nearly dropped the receiver. Giving him an impressive awestruck stare, she spoke quite clearly into the phone. "Twenty five hundred years."  
  
There was silence a moment, then Natalie stared at the receiver in confusion. "He said he'd be by tomorrow. Something about greeting you appropriately."  
  
Adam wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Oh, for God's sake. He's not *still* in a huff over Cairo, is he?"  
  
***  
  
Outside of Cairo, 1460  
  
Two figures raced madly across the desert in the last hour before dawn. Their horses were sagging as they ran, but they kept at full speed, trying desperately to outrun the sun.  
  
"Where is that oasis you promised me, Methos?"  
  
"It's just over that dune there."  
  
"And it has shelter?"  
  
"Kept me out of the wind many a time." Methos rolled his eyes slightly at his friend's urgency. "Don't *worry*, Nicholas. We'll reach it before the sun rises, with time to spare."  
  
They plowed their way to the top of yet another sand dune. No oasis. No shelter. Nicholas muttered through gritted teeth, "You were saying?"  
  
Methos frowned uncertainly. "Well, I know it's around here somewhere..."  
  
"The sun, Methos, the SUN!"  
  
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" Methos waved him off, concentrating. Suddenly he took off in a new direction. "Well, come on, then. Do you want to stay in solid form or not?" he called over his shoulder. Nicholas spurred his ragged mare after him.  
  
Once he'd gotten within shouting distance, Nick started in on his companion. "You said it would only take half a night to get to this place, Methos!"  
  
"Well," he responded practically, "who was the one who decided to get ragingly thirsty in the middle of nowhere and spend two hours digging up sand snakes? That does tend to lengthen the journey, you know."  
  
Nick was flabbergasted, as usual. "Well, why didn't you say something before?"  
  
"I make it a point never to come between a vampire and his dinner, Nicholas," was the dry response. "Just one of those rules of thumb that have kept me alive."  
  
Nicholas was finally able to catch up completely to Methos' horse, made considerably easier through the fact that Methos had stopped at the top of the most recent dune. He gestured, an 'I told you so' look written all over his face. A small clay hut squatted next to a muddy pool. "See? I knew I'd find it eventually. And even a good..." he peered at the horizon while Nicholas' horse swept past him and he dove headlong, straight from the saddle, through the window, "... thirty seconds before dawn. Perfect timing." He dismounted and led his horse as he meandered down to the waterhole.  
  
After making sure both horses had had enough to drink, he peeked inside to see how Nicholas was doing. He looked none too well: groggy, disoriented. Not to mention belligerent.  
  
Methos' expression went from confused..."No, Nicholas, this isn't a church. It's a Muslim shrine."  
  
To exasperated... "Well, how am I supposed to know that? I thought it was just a Christian thing."  
  
To derisive... "Well, you don't expect me to hole up anywhere else but on holy ground, do you? Don't be silly."  
  
To annoyed. "Oh, do stop whining, Nicholas. You'll live until the sun goes down."  
  
By the time they made it to the coast, Methos was filthy from head to toe with sand from digging, and he'd nearly died of sand snake poison twice. But Nicholas had forgiven him.  
  
Or so he'd thought.  
  
****  
  
As he expected, Adam awoke with a sword at his throat. "Get up." Nicholas' features were as cold as he'd ever seen them. But his eyes betrayed him.  
  
"Nicholas..." Adam looked at him reproachfully.  
  
"I said get up!" The blade inched closer to his jugular.  
  
"All right, all right!" Adam slowly raised himself from the bed. He'd managed to find a hotel room, even as late as it was, and had made sure Nicholas had gotten the address. No need for him to come barging into Natalie's apartment, sword swinging. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that life's too short to hold a grudge?" A sword whipped out from under his pillow to meet Nick's, disappointment lacing his tone. "I bet you haven't even held that thing for two hundred years. Exactly what are you trying to tell me? You're still as much a fool as you were when I knew you?"  
  
"A fool, am I?" Nick thrust forward, parried, spun... and was disarmed in about two seconds flat. Adam's sword came to a stop not more than an inch from his neck.  
  
"A fool."  
  
Nick smiled wickedly. "Perhaps, but I'm still faster!" Adam blinked, and he was gone. Without moving his eyes or his body, he swung his sword in a wide arc over his head, to thrust it behind him at just the right moment. Nick skidded to a stop mere inches before impaling himself.  
  
Adam shook his head reproachfully, still facing forward, away from Nick. "You're also still predictable."  
  
"You didn't think so the last time I tried that little trick."  
  
Adam rolled his eyes. "The point is to grow, Nicholas. You should try it sometime. I think you might like it."  
  
Nick snorted derisively. "You should talk. And speaking of talking, why didn't you *tell* me Natalie was an Immortal last time you were here? What, did it slip your mind?"  
  
Adam tried hard to look remorseful. "Surprise."  
  
The look on Nick's face was worth the two years' wait. "What?"  
  
"Well, I knew you'd call when the time came. She wasn't in any real danger." Nick's eyes were narrowed, and he thought he saw an edge of gold to them. Bad news. "She wasn't! Nicholas, don't you trust me?"  
  
Nick shook his head slowly as he advanced slowly on Adam. "Trust you? Trust you! Every time in my entire life I have trusted you has turned out to be a complete nightmare!"  
  
Adam shook his head and replied soothingly, "You're exaggerating."  
  
"Am I? I don't think so!"  
  
A good highlight came to mind. "I saved your life!"  
  
"*After* you tried to kill me!" Nick finally cornered him against one wall. "Give me one, just one, good reason why I should trust you."  
  
"You're destined to live an interesting life, Nicholas. Haven't I always told you that?" Totally and completely unflappable. Nick never understood how he did it.  
  
The gold melted out of his eyes, and he sighed the sigh of the long- suffering. "You know, I really am going to kill you one of these days."  
  
Adam amiably clapped him on the back. "Take a number, and pull up a chair. You'll have a long wait ahead of you." 


	5. Part 5

When Day Breaks, Part 5  
  
Adam went to talk to Natalie again later that day. Decisions had to be made, before other Immortals found them. Something to be avoided at all costs, for both their sakes. "Well, Natalie, the way I see it, you have two choices. You can either train to fight, or we can find somewhere for you to be safe." Safe was such an easy word to use. It was simple to forget how close safety was at hand, sometimes. It wasn't something one felt all that often, in their life. But he didn't want to scare her. She would learn all the rest too soon, anyway. This would have to be spread out as long as possible, if he had anything to do with it. He'd seen a few go mad, simply from too much, too soon. She seemed fairly strong, but it was when you started pushing that accidents happened.  
  
Adam fiddled with his sword, pretending to clean it. Might as well at least get her used to the sight of them, even if she did decide not to use one. He laid it on the ground. "Teaching you how to use a sword shouldn't take more than a few years, if you put the effort into it. Finding a safe place will be even easier." He made sure to catch her eye, before he continued. "The only thing is, if you do decide to stay on holy ground for safety, you have to be careful never to leave it. If you ever decide you want to go back into the world, you'll need to get in touch with me, so you can learn fighting then."  
  
Natalie frowned, and chewed her nail. At Adam's inquiring look, she tried to explain, "I don't like this at all. It feels like I'm being... crowded into a corner, or something. Like I don't have any choices of my own anymore. I hate being so... trapped."  
  
"It all depends on your perspective." Adam reclined back in his chair. "It may seem all cut and dry at first, but once you make a few initial decisions, you're home free. You have the rest of eternity to figure out what you want to do, and you can change your mind as many times as you like." He shrugged, and looked amused. "I can't even remember how many professions I've tried." His face suddenly lit into a smile. "You know, I was even a doctor once."  
  
Natalie smiled back, intrigued. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. I wasn't even half bad at it, as I recall." He caught himself staring into nothing, and his expression turned mock-sorrowful. "But I made a *horrible* blacksmith." Natalie laughed. "I'm serious! I can't tell you how many times I got kicked in the head by those damned high-strung fillies..." he shook his head to forestall the memory, "but, that's a story for another time." He clapped his hands together in conviction. "Now, it's time to eat!"  
  
Natalie was astounded. "You're hungry?"  
  
"Starved! I haven't eaten a thing since this morning." Adam was already on his way to the phone. "Do you like Chinese?"  
  
Natalie was still getting over the small hurdle of an eating immortal. "Uh... yeah. Sure." He's not a vampire, Nat. Neither are you. And never the twain shall meet. Remember that.  
  
The food came in no time, and Natalie realized how long it had been since she'd eaten, as well. As they both scarfed their food hungrily, Natalie got back on the original track of their conversation.  
  
"So I can't leave holy ground unless I'm ready to kill other Immortals?"  
  
Adam was sympathetic, but resolute. "Yes."  
  
She snorted. "A simple answer."  
  
Adam shrugged nonchalantly. "A simple question." He leaned forward, and laid his hand on hers reassuringly. "And a choice we all had to make sometime."  
  
Adam's sword lay next to the sofa in a spot where it could be conveniently kicked out of sight if unexpected company came. Natalie took a long, hard look at it, thinking. Finally she approached it, and tried to pick it up, without much success. She peered at it, as if she might find instructions written on the side. "How do you hold this thing again?"  
  
"Here." He stood next to her and gripped the sword. "With these monsters it's not so much a matter of holding as of lifting." He let it go and took a step back. "Go on. Try it."  
  
Adam looked confident, but Natalie was far from reassured. She tried lifting her arms, but the point remained firmly on the ground. And no amount of struggling with it was going to bring it up. Her wrists just weren't strong enough. Adam looked just a little too bemused; it was starting to get on her nerves. She tried one last jerk with her wrist, and was rewarded with the tip of the blade sailing up...  
  
... And sailing back down directly for her face. She swerved out of the way with a squeak, just in the nick of time, and the sword whistled by her nose to embed itself in the carpet with a loud thunk.  
  
Natalie looked back to Adam, her look half-despairing, half-amused. "This is not working."  
  
"I've seen worse." Ugh. Was he *still* cheerful? "You held onto the hilt, so at least it didn't go crashing into your furniture. That's a good sign." He smiled. "You'll do fine."  
  
She looked at him accusingly. "You're a morning person, aren't you?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Natalie sighed. "Never mind." She spared a glance at her watch, and groaned. "Oh, I've got to go to work! If I'm late again, Grace is going to kill me!"  
  
"Work?" Adam rechecked his watch. "But it's nearly eight!"  
  
Natalie smiled wearily. "Night shift."  
  
Adam gave her a mock disapproving look as he picked up his coat, the sword magically disappearing in its folds. "You shouldn't let vampires run your life, Natalie. Give them an inch, and they'll walk all over you."  
  
She laughed as they walked out the door. "Tell me something I don't know!"  
  
****  
  
"Hey, Nick." Without looking up from her microscope, Natalie waved the file in her hand. "The results on the Mendelssohn case." She looked up at him, and handed it over. "Definitely a suicide. Nothing you guys have to worry about."  
  
He smiled. "Good." He reached out to put an arm around her waist. "And how are you?"  
  
Her smile was just a little hard. "I'm fine." Exactly how many times was she going to have to say that? "I'm just a little tired." She tried the smile again, and was a bit more forgiving this time. "I had a lot to think about last night."  
  
"Oh? And what were you thinking about?"  
  
"Ohh, I don't know. Lots of things." She looked back in the microscope, and fiddled with the knobs for no apparent reason. "For instance... I can't help thinking..." She looked back up and turned to face him. "I just wish I could have been able to give this to someone else." Her face was terribly remorseful. "I mean, if Schanke, or Cohen, had been immortal, instead of me..."  
  
Nick put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. "They died human, Nat. They're better off than the pair of us together."  
  
Yes, they didn't have to watch us die, like we did them. They were saved, at least, from that. But from the look on Nick's face, that wasn't what he meant. Not at all. "Wait. What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
He seemed to think the answer was obvious. "Natalie, you're going to be out there by yourself in only a matter of years. Haven't you thought about what that's going to mean?" He almost laughed at her naiveté. "You're not going to have Adam to protect you. You're going to have to fight, to kill, to stay alive. Unless you've decided to stay on holy ground." She shook her head numbly, staring at him as if she'd never seen him before. He looked profoundly disappointed. "You're going to be killing people for a living, just like the rest of them."  
  
She felt her jaw fall open in surprise. Funny. She'd always thought that just happened in stories. "I am going to do what I have to to survive, and I will not apologize for it!" she replied hotly.  
  
Nick shook his head wisely down at her, from atop his moral high ground. "So what makes us different, hmm?"  
  
Natalie glared at him. She knew where he was going with this. And there was no way she was going to let him get away with it. "Oh no, you don't! Don't you throw your guilt complexes on *my* shoulders! I didn't choose to be this way!"  
  
Wrong point to stress. Wrong wrong. "Yes, you did. The moment you decided to fight instead of choosing the safety of the church."  
  
Nick, don't do this. Don't do this to me. "I am *not* going to spend the rest of eternity behind closed doors so you can feel better about yourself!"  
  
"This isn't about me, Nat. This is about you and your eternal soul."  
  
The straw that broke the camel's back. Such a tiny thing, it was. Natalie's face reddened with fury. "Don't even try to feed me that crap, Nick! This is entirely about you, and you know it! Personally, I don't think my soul is going to be damned for trying to survive. If it were a sin to want to live, humanity wouldn't have gotten this far! You can feel sorry for yourself until the sun falls out of the sky if you like, but don't you *dare* pull me down with you!"  
  
"Natalie," he soothed, as if to a rebellious child.  
  
She was far too angry to care. "Out."  
  
He stood there a moment longer, and looked stubborn.  
  
"OUT!"  
  
It was only when a keyboard flew at his head that he actually left. And it was only when he left that she realized how hard she was shaking.  
  
No matter how bad things got, in the years that they had known each other, he had never lost faith in her. Sure, he'd thought she was wrong about this or that, and he didn't always follow her advice, but he had always, always had faith in her. She had thought that it was her, and not her humanity, he had put his faith in.  
  
She even fooled herself into believing that it was really her that he had loved.  
  
Her fingers found the phone far too easily. Punching the number was even easier. It almost made even her a believer in the tide of destiny. She took a deep breath, and cleared her throat so her voice wouldn't shake.  
  
"Adam?" She halfheartedly smiled. "Nothing. How soon do you think we can leave?" Pause. "I told you, nothing." Pause. "I can tender my resignation tonight." Pause, and another deep breath. "Yes, I'm sure." Pause. "Fine. I'll see you at my apartment. We can catch a taxi to the airport together."  
  
She hung up.  
  
***  
  
Nick hesitantly knocked on the door. "Natalie? Natalie!" He sighed. He had really put his foot in it this time. He knew he shouldn't have been quite so hard on her, it was just that she didn't realize what it was she was getting into. How the choices she was making now would affect her whole life. If he could just talk to her, without any screaming this time, he was sure he could make her understand what the obvious choice, the only choice, could be. But he couldn't let her stay like this. She was strong, far stronger than he was, she could stay clean of evil if she tried. All he had to do was make her understand.  
  
He heard Adam through the door. "Natalie, why don't you at least try to talk to him?"  
  
Natalie's response made him wince. "We have nothing to say to each other."  
  
He tried to peek through her window, and saw that she was busily stuffing random things into bags. Adam was helping her, under mild protest. He looked Nick's way, and shook his head slightly. But whether it was in warning, or an admission of defeat, he couldn't tell. Then he returned to his efforts, trying to cheer Natalie up.  
  
"Natalie, you aren't going to need all these... things. This isn't the Girl Guides, you know. You don't need to 'be prepared.'"  
  
She smiled wanly. "I know. I just want to take a few more things..."  
  
Adam sighed, and checked his watch. "We'll take whatever you can pack into those bags in the next five minutes. Then we have to leave, or we'll miss our flight."  
  
"You shouldn't have said that." Natalie returned with another armful of clothes, wearing a real smile for once, if only briefly. "You're looking at a champion packer."  
  
He pointed a finger at her. "You're carrying your own bags, missy. Just remember that."  
  
She pointed back at him, a fierce look in her eye. "And I always will."  
  
It was then, unfortunately, that Nick decided to step through the window. "Where are you going, Nat?" She whipped around and her face darkened even more noticeably.  
  
"It's none of your concern anymore," she spat.  
  
"Natalie, don't say that." But she had already turned her back to him, and was violently shoving things into yet another bag. "Please, Nat, I just want to talk to you."  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adam edging for the door. Apparently she did too, because her hand whipped out to point at him. "Don't you go anywhere. We've only got five minutes."  
  
"I'll be back in ten. Bye!" The door slammed shut behind him before Natalie could say a word.  
  
She glared at the door a moment, then turned to continue her packing without looking at Nick. "I really don't know what we have to talk about, but if you feel like talking, knock yourself out."  
  
Nick frowned thoughtfully. This was not going to be easy. "Natalie, I'm sorry I yelled at you. It was out of line." He was rewarded by her turning to face him and crossing her arms in front of her chest. She didn't look anywhere near convinced, but at least she was listening. "I was worried about you. I just don't want you to get hurt."  
  
Natalie looked very, very tired as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Nick, I'm sorry if you haven't noticed, but I really can take care of myself. I know you think this is important, but what we have here is a difference of opinion, nothing more."  
  
"But, Nat, you don't understand..."  
  
Her patience slipped. "I understand completely! It's you who doesn't understand!" She took a deep breath, and continued in more normal tones, "I am not going to try to live by your rules, just so you can have another scapegoat to hate when I fail, Nick. I won't, for your own good, as well as mine."  
  
He looked at her with complete and utter faith, a look that made her want to tear her own heart out. "You won't fail. You'd never fail."  
  
She could feel the tears streaming down her face, to fall heavily to the floor. "Oh, Nick. Don't you see? I already have." She picked up her bags quickly, then paused a moment at the door to look back at him, so lost and alone. "I already have." 


	6. Part 6

When Day Breaks, Part 6  
  
Nick eventually made it back to the loft before morning struck. He couldn't remember where he'd left the caddy; he'd spent hours driving that night, even more walking. No aim, no purpose. He smiled bitterly. A fine metaphor for his life, at the moment. But it seemed like all the time in the world would not be enough to decide what his next step should be.  
  
He could chase Natalie down, find out where she was hiding and *make* her listen... but that would only drive her farther away. Right now, what she needed most was some time to herself. Time to think. Besides, even if he did find her, she had already made up her mind.  
  
And he knew Natalie. A tender smile inadvertently lit his face. Once she had made up her mind, God help whoever tried to tell her different.  
  
God help her.  
  
He brushed the tears impatiently from his face, and rose to get a bottle from the fridge.  
  
"Surely you knew this would happen, Nicholas," Lacroix spoke from behind him. "At some point, she was destined to move on, and leave you here alone."  
  
Nick was in no mood to hear this. "Get out," he snarled, without turning to look at him.  
  
"You didn't really want her to stay and waste her life waiting for you, did you?"  
  
Nick continued to stare stonily at the floor. Minutes passed. Finally, he muttered, "No. Of course not."  
  
"She's gone and made a better life for herself. You should be happy."  
  
Nick spun around and glared at his mocking conscience. "What do you care?" he spat. "She means nothing to you."  
  
To his surprise, Lacroix had no arrogant smile, no smugly lifted brow. "Ah, but she means everything to *you*, Nicholas. And that is what matters to me."  
  
"Yes, well, your concern is touching, but unnecessary. What are you really here for?"  
  
"Merely to keep you company." At Nick's cringe, he snapped, "It's only till sunset, Nicholas. Surely you can bear my presence for that long." Just as quickly, his features smoothed. "I didn't think you should be alone today. I wanted to be sure you didn't do anything... rash. I recall how despondent you were over that dancer, Sylvaine..."  
  
So quickly did Nicholas attack, Lacroix didn't even see him coming. One moment he was talking, the next he found himself flying across the room, crashing heavily into the wall above the fireplace. "Don't ever, EVER speak that name to me, Lacroix! You don't have the right!" Nick was incandescent with rage.  
  
Faster than the eye could see, Lacroix had Nicholas by the throat, his eyes yellow as well. Bringing Nicholas' face about two inches from his own, he snarled, "You will be *silent*, boy, while I'm trying to apologize!"  
  
Stunned, Nick sank into the chair he'd been thrown into and stared while Lacroix crossed his arms, frowning, and looked profoundly annoyed.  
  
"Whatever you may think of me, Nicholas, it was not my intention to drive you away. I was trying to do you a favor." Lacroix calmly withstood Nick's murderous glare. "I had seen that you were beginning to fall in love with her, someone you had never even met." He frowned, even in the memory. "I had hoped to forestall your infatuation before it took root." His frown grew more pronounced, almost a grimace, as he looked to the far wall. "I was wrong."  
  
But when he looked back at Nicholas, his face was still and calm. "She would have left you, eventually. I knew, even if you were too blind to see. New horizons would catch her eye, and she would be gone. Just like Natalie. And Janette."  
  
Nick abruptly rose and stood before the window, watching the skyline glow with the coming of morning. And as Lacroix came up to watch silently beside him, the words he didn't say echoed in Nick's mind. But I would never leave you, Nicholas. Never.  
  
And as he watched the sky swell brighter and brighter, Nick wasn't sure if he should be furious, or glad.  
  
He decided to be glad.  
  
***  
  
One month later.  
  
It had taken her a full week to keep the tip up for any amount of time, and she felt perfectly arthritic with pain the first few days she tried. But Natalie was slowly making progress, hounded unmercifully by Adam, who appeared without fail at her bedside every morning at five sharp, coffee in hand. Actually, switching from a night schedule to a day schedule was simplicity itself, as it turned out. Skip over a few time zones, and you're done. Not that Scotland days were all that spectacular: it was cloudy and cool nine times out of ten, and the ground hadn't dried out yet from the melted snow, so the road to town was still totally impossible.  
  
But she couldn't argue with Adam's logic for being far away from civilization right now, to cut down distractions, Immortal or otherwise. "Not good for PR to have the locals watch us crashing about with swords, now is it?"  
  
She was even able to swing the stupid thing now with some semblance of control. She smiled, remembering her first few tries; spectacular disasters that sent Adam diving for the ground, sword flying wildly off in some direction. But he never got upset at failure, and refused to let her, either. His patience would eventually start to irritate her, if he didn't offset things with the occasional story of someone else, usually him, who had done something far more spectacularly stupid at one time or another. She was fairly sure he made them up on the spot, but that didn't keep them from making her laugh. As time went on, they were getting more and more used to each other's quirks, and she actually found herself beginning to look forward to the future.  
  
"Enjoying the view?"  
  
She turned and smiled. "Absolutely. How did you find this place?"  
  
"A friend of mine recommended it." He smiled wryly. "Even if I did remember where I learned to fight, it's undoubtedly covered by a shopping mall or some other ghastly thing by now. One of the few things progress is not good for."  
  
She smiled up at him, then returned to watching the view. Suddenly she pointed. "Look, there's the sunrise." Clouds did make for spectacular sunrises and sunsets. She learned that early, as well. For a while, she simply sat and enjoyed the beauty of the moment. Every morning, though, the sunrise inevitably reminded her of Nick.  
  
The next time Adam looked down at her, she wasn't even looking at the sunrise anymore. Her face had saddened considerably in the morning light as she stared into nothing. Adam sighed. It didn't take a mind reader to figure out what she was thinking about. Or who. Seemingly of its own volition, his hand fell lightly to her shoulder. "You won't feel this way forever, you know. I know it's kind of cliché, but absence really does make the heart grow fonder." He smiled gently. "In a few decades, you may run across one another, and have a good laugh over it all. Life's too short to hold a grudge, Natalie. Even for us."  
  
Natalie sighed, smiled gratefully up at him, laid her hand over his own, and looked back at the horizon. "I hope you're right."  
  
"I am. Trust me." The two stood for a moment more, and watched the sun lift into the sky, before going back inside to start another day.  
  
****  
  
The lone figure swept through the airport, a small cloud of darkness against all the bright lights. It was too warm inside the terminal, the heaters had yet to be adjusted from last week's cold spell, but she seemed perfectly comfortable in the heavy cloak with its deep hood obscuring her face. She had little luggage, only a small purse on her shoulder. She coolly scanned the crowd, but she recognized no one, and none seemed to take any interest in her. Good.  
  
Her limo was waiting for her when she stepped outside. She didn't hesitate, but stepped quickly in. She prepared to give directions to the driver, when he turned to her, and she sank into the back seat in alarm.  
  
"Janette," Lacroix murmured, "don't you know it's polite to call before dropping by to visit?"  
  
Recovering quickly from her initial reaction, Janette calmly took off her dark concealing sunglasses, and began to remove her gloves. "How did you know I was coming?"  
  
He gestured vaguely around him. "Your taste has always given you away."  
  
She smiled luxuriously for a moment. "Ah yes. I had thought it might be fun to come back in style."  
  
"Which begs the obvious question, Janette," and she heard as well as felt the edge in his voice, "why have you come back at all?"  
  
"You no longer have a hold over me, Lacroix. Don't you keep abreast of these things?" Could Lacroix possibly not know his own mistake? From the moment she heard of it through their small grapevine, she had intended to make the most of it. It seems she would have ample opportunity. He should have known he wouldn't be able to hold her for long...  
  
***  
  
Toronto, one year ago.  
  
"Janette." That was all she needed to hear, even in the noise of the Raven, to know it was him. She turned, and was studiously unsurprised. He always enjoyed it when his children pretended to predict him. She motioned silently for Lacroix to follow her to the office behind the club.  
  
She passed through the door without stopping, immediately opening a new bottle, allowing Lacroix to shut the door behind him. Once she had poured him a glass, and one for herself, she finally spoke. "So. To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
  
Lacroix sipped at his drink for a moment before answering. "I would ask... a favor of you." He set his drink down. "I want you to leave Toronto."  
  
A slight widening of the eyes. Surely he wouldn't notice. "That is quite a thing to ask. I have connections here, a place, people who depend on my services..."  
  
Lacroix nodded, having anticipated the counter. "They will be cared for. If necessary, I will run the Raven in your absence." He caught her eye and gazed at her intently to emphasize the importance of his words. "But you must leave quickly, and under no circumstances will you tell him neither that you are leaving, nor where you will go."  
  
Caught in the middle again. Janette frowned. There was only one reason for her to be required to leave without notice. Lacroix was scheming again. For once, it wasn't hard to look bored. "What do you have in mind this time, hmm? Are you going to try to force him to leave again?" She smiled. "As I recall, your last attempt was something less than a success." She knew she would regret the words, but it was too much of a temptation. Lacroix so rarely failed, it was an occasion to be remembered.  
  
But, surprisingly, Lacroix wasn't angry. He even smiled, and Janette began to feel the first threads of worry. He must be very confident of his plan indeed, to be in this good a mood. "Nothing of the sort. Nicholas has already set himself up for a fall. I merely plan to be there to watch it happen."  
  
Janette set her glass down, puzzled. "What are you talking about? What fall?"  
  
"Surely you've noticed how he dotes on that girl... Natalie, I think."  
  
"Of course." Janette didn't like where this was going. She knew perfectly well how much she meant to Nicola, no matter how much she might wish otherwise. "You're not going to kill her, are you?" She shook her head in irritation. Sloppy. That couldn't be what he was planning. "He'll hate you all the more for it, make no mistake."  
  
Lacroix snorted in disgust. "No, of course not. Why should I do anything, but let time take it's course?" He was already smiling again. It had been at least fifty years since she'd seen him so pleased with himself. "The result will be the same, and he won't have a reason in the world to place the blame on me. Because this time, I will have had nothing to do with his misery. All I have to do, is be there to pick up the pieces."  
  
"You want him to fall in love with her!" She would have never suspected him to take this strategy. Therefore, neither would Nicola.  
  
"Of course I do. The more lovestruck he is, the better my point is made in the end." Yes, of course. No wonder he was so pleased. It was simple and marvelously elegant. If he continued working steadily on his kinder and gentler image, as he had been since returning to them last year, he would be in the perfect position to comfort Nicola when the time came, to advise him when he was at his most vulnerable. Lacroix could tell him practically anything. It would be simplicity itself to pull him gently away from mortal life. Depending on how careful Lacroix was about it, Nicola might even be able to believe it was his own choice.  
  
But he should have known better than to tell her his plan. The only time she ever refused him was when it came to Nicola. "Lacroix, don't do this. When the time comes, he'll need me." But she had a strong feeling that her small rebellion would futile. He would not have given her an avenue of escape; he knew perfectly well where she would stand on the matter. But she had to try.  
  
He tilted his head toward her, raising the glass to his lips again. "Exactly my point. He's become entirely too dependent on you, my dear Janette. It is time that he came to depend on me."  
  
She used her eyes and the tone of her voice to reinforce her words, as if they were the most obvious thing in the world: "He won't turn to you for help. He hates you too much." Believe it, Lacroix. Leave him alone. He'll be miserable enough without your help.  
  
He lifted his eyebrows and nodded, conceding the point. "Perhaps not, but this is the best opportunity to find out that I'll have in a century."  
  
She had no more cards to play, and she was out of options. All but the last, and the most dangerous. Janette watched him coolly. "And if I refuse?"  
  
Lacroix stood and gently caressed her chin. "Then poor Natalie will die all the sooner. Nicholas will come to me with the blame, of course. And I, as you might expect, will have an alibi and witnesses. You, however, are a woman scorned." Lacroix shook his head in mock sadness. "It won't take much to convince him of your guilt." Then he smiled. He really was amused by this game. "And once the idea is fixed in his mind, nothing you say could possibly make him believe otherwise."  
  
She knew immediately that it was true. Even if she went to Nicola now, right this instant, he would still be faster. Lacroix smiled reassuringly, "Don't worry, my dear. Once the deed is done, you're perfectly free to come back. A head start is all I require."  
  
His expression was patiently amused, hers was patiently bored. But their eyes, when they met, were anything but patient, and sparks flew. He knew exactly how much it would hurt her to watch Nick suffer, with only Lacroix to turn to, though that wasn't entirely his intent. And she knew how very much Lacroix wanted this moment, and how much he would give for its smooth completion.  
  
There was really no contest. She was trapped; they both knew it. She hesitated a moment, then sighed. Well, there were aspects in his plan that were advantageous to her, no matter what happened. Besides, she had gained Nicola's trust before. In time, if need be, she could gain it again.  
  
He must have seen the acceptance in her eyes, because he smiled just a little more, and said, "I knew you would come to see things my way."  
  
He kissed her lightly on the cheek, and was gone.  
  
***  
  
Janette smiled. That was only a year ago. Nowhere near the amount of time Lacroix would require to bolster himself in his son's eyes. It was his fatal error, to assume that he would have decades; a mistake that no one, not even he, could have predicted. He had failed again.  
  
And Janette felt like celebrating.  
  
"Your time is up, Lacroix. He is mine again."  
  
"What makes you think he was ever yours to begin with, or ever will be, for that matter?" Lacroix's tone was icy, and she had learned to respect that look in his eye. She decided to change her attitude, and quickly.  
  
"Have you made progress?" she asked innocently, as Lacroix pulled out and began to drive toward the Raven.  
  
"That depends on what you call progress." he replied sourly. "Things have not gone as I would have liked."  
  
"More in my favor than you would have hoped?" she asked softly, her tone carefully neutral.  
  
His mouth quirked at her caution. Or for other reasons. "Less, actually."  
  
Her heart froze for a moment, then fell like a stone. "What?"  
  
Lacroix frowned at the road in front of him, as if it were the one thwarting him. "I'm not sure how to bring him out of this new stage of bitterness that he's found, or," he admitted, "even if I should."  
  
"Lacroix..." she whispered, "what have you done to him?"  
  
They slowed to a stop in front of the Raven, and Lacroix turned to look at her fully, and she saw the faint traces of concern that marked his face. His honest answer chilled her to the bone.  
  
"I don't know. But he seems to hate all the world but me."  
  
****  
  
The first thing she did, of course, was visit him.  
  
"Nicola?" She tiptoed through the loft. "You know, you should really be more careful to lock your skylight..." She caught sight of him, sitting at the table, working, of course. He looked at her, smiled faintly, but didn't rise to greet her. "Hello, Janette."  
  
She firmly stamped down the fear that stirred within her, and managed to smile with some amount of normalcy. "Now that's not a proper greeting, Nicola," she teased. She remembered a time when that remark would make him smile. This time though, it had the opposite effect. His smile seemed to waver, then disappeared. His expression changed slightly, and Janette paled. She could not remember a time when he had looked on her so coldly. Then he looked away, and she tried to shake herself of the feeling of dread that had enveloped her.  
  
"So, how long will you be staying?" he asked conversationally as he went to pour the wine.  
  
She cocked her head, and smiled in polite confusion. She couldn't believe that that was all that was bothering him. Easily fixed, if that was the extent of it. "I was only gone a little while, Nicola. I'm not going anywhere now."  
  
"Yes, of course," he replied flatly. Janette's mouth nearly fell open in surprise. He didn't believe her! Not only that, but he didn't even seem to question the fact that she was lying. What on earth did Lacroix say to him? What on earth *could* Lacroix have said to him? Janette felt her fear begin to worsen. But there was nothing, *nothing* Lacroix could have said to turn him against her, not completely. She knew that with a certainty that she thought was unbreakable. He still loved her.  
  
Didn't he?  
  
She no longer knew, and that was worst of all.  
  
She decided to stop dancing about the subject. She was no longer in a condition to do it very well. "Nicola, what is it? What's wrong?" The words had never failed to bring her a deluge of Nicola's current list of troubles. He had always confided in her, always. Even when he shouldn't have. That was another thing that never changed. Never.  
  
Nick lost all pretense of politeness, as his eyes grew steely. "You left." His voice was still conversational, normal. He was more angry than she had ever seen him, ten upon ten times more angry. The feeling of dread got worse, and her jaw tightened.  
  
Janette looked him full in the eye and withstood his glare. "I came back." It was her only defense.  
  
He wasn't convinced. "You'll leave again."  
  
Honesty was all she had left, no matter how painful. "And I'll come back again."  
  
Neither of them would budge an inch, and the stare lengthened into minutes, until Nick snapped, "You *left*, Janette! You *abandoned* me when I needed you most!"  
  
"You, having never neglected me a day in your life, oui?" She acidly returned. "Don't pretend to play the martyr, Nicola. Recall that I know you better."  
  
Nick's face reddened in fury, as all his anger unleashed itself at once. "I NEEDED YOU!"  
  
"And, of course, I have NEVER needed YOU!" she shouted back. "Or does screaming it at the top of your lungs make your feelings more important than mine?" Janette snarled through gritted teeth, "Try again, Nicola. Try harder. You came up with better excuses seven hundred years ago."  
  
"So did you," he whispered bitterly. But the anger was slipping, and his face was collapsing rapidly into despair, one deeper than she had seen, even from him, in a long, long time. His gaze fell to the floor, as he murmured simply, "I lost *everything*, Janette. Everything. It was all destroyed, in the time you were gone. Everything that meant anything to me." His brow furrowed as he looked back at her face. Tears had formed in his eyes, though not a single one fell. "Can you possibly understand what that feels like?"  
  
"No," she admitted softly, and added to herself, but I had thought I was going learn, for a moment.  
  
He solemnly looked at her, watched her for a little while, until he spoke at last. "I wish you could have been here." But this time he said it in sadness, without accusation.  
  
She wondered fleetingly if her own eyes were going to well up with tears. "So do I." That, at least, she could admit. I would have stayed if I could, Nicola, I swear it. "I am here now." It was all she could offer as an apology, an apology that was not hers to give. She damned Lacroix as she had known she would, for forcing her to leave, and reached out to him with one hand.  
  
He grasped it, and she pulled him forward, into a tight embrace.  
  
"You'll stay?" he whispered.  
  
"I promise." Lacroix's voice seemed to whisper in her ear that promises such as these were made to be broken. Janette held on all the tighter, and prayed that this would be one she would be able to keep.  
  
END. 


End file.
